


Stay

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: 2.07, AU, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 04:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: The constant burn of exhaustion behind her eyes has become something she is used to and she wonders if there will ever come a day when she doesn’t feel constantly on the edge of tears; angry, bitter, disappointed tears.





	Stay

“You need to sleep.”

Mac nods, almost imperceptibly, wishing he would drop it but knowing that he won’t. She knows he’s worried about her, and she supposes it’s understandable. She knows how tired she looks, she‘s well aware of the shadows under her eyes and she has long given up trying to hide them with make-up. The constant burn of exhaustion behind her eyes has become something she is used to and she wonders if there will ever come a day when she doesn’t feel constantly on the edge of tears; angry, bitter, disappointed tears. She can’t sleep because her mind won’t allow her to, instead choosing to run through everything she did wrong, should have said, didn’t do. She can’t eat because her stomach is housing a permanent knot of dread and anxiety, a knot so big that pushing food beyond it feels like an impossibility, so she’s essentially stopped trying.

“Mac?”

Looking up at the sound of her name, she shakes her head and tries to smile, but can’t seem to manage it, instead biting her lip to contain the sudden threat of tears at the tenderness in Will’s tone. Before she realises it, he is standing in front of her, his hand pushing her hair softly behind her ear, and it’s more than she can take in her current state of exhaustion, and her breath hitches. Her defences down, she gives in to the urge she usually has the strength to fight, and pitches forward, sighing as his arms slide around her, pulling her against him, his chest warm under her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, conscious of her tears soaking into his shirt, but unable to find the strength to pull away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it.” He squeezes her tighter and she feels him drop a kiss into her hair, so softly that she wonders if, in her delirious state, she imagined it. “Now…I know you hate being told what to do and you know I’m usually smarter than to try-“

“But?” She pulls back and reaches her hand out to the damp spot on his chest, rubbing it self- consciously before stepping out of his arms and away from his gaze.

“I’m worried about you, Mac.” He shrugs, watching her as she winds her arms tightly around herself and stares down at the table.

"I'm fi-"

"Don't you fucking dare say you're fine." He doesn't raise his voice but there's something in his tone that makes her look up at him. "You're not fine. You're exhausted, I know you're not eating, and-"

"What do you want me to say, Will?" She keeps her voice low, even, but her nails dig into her upper arms, and she feels like the room is closing in.

"I don't want you to _say_ anything." He steps closer again and lifts her chin, gently, ignoring the trembling of her bottom lip. "I want you to eat something, I want you to get some sleep, some actual sleep, and I want you to stop taking the blame for everything that happened. Mackenzie, you are the most attractive woman I have ever seen in real life, and I stand by that, but shit, you're not making it easy."

"I don't know whether to say thanks to that, or fuck you," she says quietly, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take either of those over 'I'm fine'," Will says, dropping her chin and running a hand down her arm.

"Fair enough." She manages a small smile, and they stand in silence for a few loaded seconds.

"Go get your things, Mac." Will breaks the quiet, waving vaguely in the direction of her office. "Get your coat, your purse, whatever. We're getting out of here."

"I really don't want to go to Hang Chews-"

"We're not going to Hang Chews." He turns and presses a hand to her back, steering her gently towards the door. "We're going to my place, I'm going to sit as long as takes for you to finish a plate of whatever the fuck I can manage to make, and then you're going to get some sleep."

“Will, I…” She stops because she has no real idea what she was about to say, shrugging to let him know she agrees.

Somewhere deep down, something tells her this could be a terrible idea, yet Mackenzie can’t seem to convince herself of that as she walks towards her office. In a few days there’s a good chance she, along with Will, and probably Charlie, will be out of a job, and she doesn’t know what that means, but she can’t quieten the voice screaming at her that she might never see Will again. So she will go home with him tonight, if he wants to cook for her, if he’s determined to make sure she gets some sleep then tonight she’s going to let him; right now, she can’t think of a single reason not to.

*

He sits opposite her and watches as she pushes chicken and salad around her plate, although he tries (and fails) to be discreet about it. Taking a bite, she chews slowly and deliberately before washing the small mouthful down with a gulp of wine, raising her eyebrows at Will over the top of the glass.

“Alright,” he mumbles. “I get the message, although I think the idea was for you to eat an actual dinner, not just take the occasional bite to accompany your alcohol.”

“Oh, come on, Will.” She takes a final, defiant mouthful of wine before slamming the glass down on the table. “It isn’t like I’m sitting on a street corner eating beef jerky and drinking from a brown fucking bag.”

“I know, that's not what I'm saying…” he pauses, taking a breath. “I’m sorry, beef jerky?” 

“Or whatever the fuck winos eat! How the hell would I know?!” pushing her chair back, she stands up and strides towards the kitchen, aware that he's probably going to follow her, and not entirely sure why she’s getting so angry with him.

“I wasn’t trying to, I mean, shit.” He steps up behind her as she reaches the counter, hesitating briefly before placing a hand tentatively on her shoulder. “I’m sorry-“

“Don’t, please, just...” She shakes her head, but doesn’t turn around. “I don’t know why I’m flipping out like this, I’m sorry, but you’re really throwing me for a loop here, Will. You should be yelling at me, telling me how badly I fucked up with Genoa, you should be firing me so that nobody else has to be dragged into this sorry mess. But you’re not, you’re offering to make me dinner and worrying about me, and being completely fucking sweet, and I don’t know what to do with that-“

“Mackenzie.” He stops her, tugging on her shoulder until she turns around. “We _all_ fucked up with Genoa, every single one of us is in this mess because we had an equal part in airing the story, I don’t know what else I can do to make you see that, and I’m sure as shit not firing you, throwing you to the damn lions, so you can get that out of your head right now-“

“Will.” She cuts in but he raises a hand to stop her.

“I’m not done.” He raises his voice. “You’re running on very little sleep, barely any food, and you know what, if you need to yell at me, if it helps, then just do it, Christ knows I probably deserve it, and honestly? I’d rather have you stand here and go fucking crazy at me than to send you home knowing you’re going to just lie awake and beat yourself up some more-“

“I’ve been yelling at you for over two years now and it hasn’t changed a thing, not one fucking thing,” her face is flushed and he tightens his grip on her shoulder. “You hated me two years ago, and you hate me now, only this time as well as fucking up your personal life, I’ve done it to your career too, to both of our careers-“

“Jesus, Mac, I don’t hate you!” He’s yelling now even though their faces are only inches apart. 

“How the hell, after everything, can you still think-“

Barely aware of what she’s doing, Mac’s hands spring into action before her brain can catch up and suddenly she’s dragging his face down towards hers, closing the distance between them, pushing herself against him as she kisses him hard, not allowing herself to stop and think for even a second. He tenses against her briefly before he buries a hand in her hair and returns the kiss, his free hand settling on her lower back, pulling her closer as her tongue slides against his.

Moving her hands into his hair, she gasps as he pushes her back against the counter, his hips pressing against hers as he slips a hand under her shirt, clumsily tugging it free from the waistband of her skirt, his fingers roaming across her back. When Mac moans softly into the kiss, he pulls back, looking into her face, her eyes wide, her lips moist, her breathing ragged.

“Oh God.” She looks away from him, and bites her lip. “Shit, Billy, I don’t know…I-“

“Shh.” He pulls her to him and she slides her arms around his waist, her head resting against his chest.

Her heart is pounding and she feels like her entire body is trembling. He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment they just stand still, his hands drawing faint circles on her back, hers gripping handfuls of his t-shirt.

“I probably should go.” Her words are somewhat lost against Will’s chest but he hears her and stills his hands on her back.

“Stay,” he says, quietly, firmly.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…I didn’t come here to…I-“ She pauses, closing her eyes. “I’m just so fucking tired.”

“I know.” His hands start to move again, his thumbs tracing the curves of her shoulder blades. “Just…stay.”

*

Mackenzie stretches her legs, opens her eyes and wonders why she went to bed in just a t-shirt. It takes a few seconds before the night before comes crashing through her morning haze and she groans, rolling over and coming face to face with a sleeping Will. Holy fucking hell.

She sits up and glances over at the clock on Will’s side of the bed, it’s early, not quite 7am, and she wonders if she can be up and out of here before Will wakes up; he’s never been a morning person, she doubts that’s changed. Almost 7am…she realises that she has had five, maybe six hours of sleep, more than she’s had in weeks, and she feels surprisingly refreshed as she climbs out of bed as quietly as possible and heads for the bathroom. Finding an unopened toothbrush in Will’s cabinet, she cleans her teeth, splashes her face (ignoring the traces of last night’s make-up) and drags a comb through her hair, frowning at herself in the mirror.

Leaving Will’s t-shirt folded on the sofa, she scribbles a note, _Headed home, clothes, shower, etc. See you at the office- M_. and puts it on top of the shirt where she knows he’ll see it, before leaving, closing the door quietly behind her.

In the cab on the way home, her mind starts to wander, trying to understand how she went from yelling at him to kissing him in seconds, and then into his bed wearing nothing but a t-shirt and her underwear. She vaguely remembers waking at some point during the night and finding his arm draped across her stomach, her heart stuttering at the familiar feel of it before she had somehow managed to drift off to sleep again. She had known going over there last night was a bad idea, she'd been so thoroughly bone tired, but crying on his shoulder all night was what she'd feared, she hadn't expected her defences would crumble the way they had. Will had done everything right, cooking her dinner, letting her yell at him, and kissing her back when she launched herself at him, his hands slipping under her shirt until he finally seemed to realise what he was doing and pulled away. For a moment she allows herself to think about what might have happened if he hadn't stopped, if he'd just...she shakes herself out of it because she really can't go there, not now.

Her phone beeps as she is getting dressed and she knows without looking that it’s Will.

_Pretty stealthy this morning, McHale…see you at work- W_.

She's standing at Maggie's desk trying to help sort out what Maggie can pass to Neal, while trying to catch Neal's attention to let him know that work is coming his way. Maggie and Neal are bickering and Mac wonders if this is what it's like to have children, constantly running interference, always telling someone off for something, frequently having no one listen to you at all. She rolls her eyes at Neal and is telling Maggie to just split the damn pile and if anyone has a problem they can take it up with her, when Will walks in. He's carrying two coffee cups on a tray in one hand, a paper bag in the other and he smiles when he sees her.

"Mac?" Maggie looks at her because she's stopped mid-sentence, then she looks over at Will, confused but curious because something feels different.

"Yeah, just, you know, let me know if..." Mac turns and steps towards Will, oblivious to Maggie's gaze following her.

"Morning," Will says, handing her the bag, and taking one of the coffee cups from the tray and passing it to her.

"Thanks." She smiles before biting her lip, realising with some horror that she's blushing slightly.

"Oh." Will reaches for the scarf around his neck and removes it, draping it around Mac, lowering his voice. "I found this in my bathroom this morning, I'm guessing it's yours."

"Yeah." She nods. "Thanks, I mustn't have seen it when I, um, yeah, thanks."

"Alright then." He smiles and runs his fingers down the scarf before turning towards his office.

Mac takes her coffee and what she assumes is breakfast and walks away, leaving Maggie almost open mouthed while Neal sits smirking.

"What the hell was that?" Neal asks. "I mean, was Mac blushing?"

"I...don't know," Maggie says, staring in the direction of Mac's office. "Did he say...she left her scarf in his bathroom and he found it this morning? Do you think that means she was at his place- no, fuck, Neal, we shouldn't be gossiping about this."

"No, we shouldn't," he agrees. "We really shouldn't." 

"Well?" Maggie stands up and walks around to Neal's desk. 

"What?" he asks, frowning.

"Oh my God, Neal! Do you think she stayed at his place last night?" Maggie throws her hands up in exasperation, managing to take down a stack of files as she does. "Do you think they-"

"I really have no idea." Neal interrupts, scratching his head as he stares at the files littering his desk. "Who knows, maybe they've finally figured that with Genoa and everything they should just stop fucking around, stop wasting time."

"I hope so," Maggie says, a smile on her face, her eyes widening when she spots Will walking towards Mac's office, stopping just inside the doorway.

Standing there for a few seconds, coffee in hand, Will watches as she types, frowning at the screen as her glasses perch precariously on the end of her nose and his breakfast offering sits on the paper bag, untouched.

“You know, I’m pretty sure that’s not heavy enough to act as a paperweight.” He steps in, gesturing at the muffin.

“Really, Billy?” She looks up. “Thanks for the tip.”

“If you’d stayed this morning, I’d have made you a proper breakfast.” He steps closer to her desk, hovering momentarily before dropping into the seat opposite her.

“I know, I…” Mackenzie shrugs, her gaze moving back to her screen. “Thank you. For the breakfast.”

“It’s kind of pointless thanking me unless you’re actually going to eat it.” His eyebrows raise and he smiles as she sighs and picks up the muffin. “It’s cranberry and apple.”

“Perfect.” She breaks off a piece. “Do you want some?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” He shakes his head and puts his coffee cup down on her desk, saying nothing as she chews before smiling at him.

“So, I took a pile of work from Maggie this morning and asked her to pass it to Neal.” She pauses, taking a sip of coffee. “You’ve got to stop giving everything to Maggie, she’s not your assistant anymore, Will. It isn’t her job to be dealing with all the crap you don’t know what to do with.”

“Fine,” he says, “I’ll give it to…” 

“Jenna.” Mac sighs. “Give it to Jenna.”

“Alright, I’ll give it to Jenna,” he says. “Jenna’s sorority girl, right?”

“I know you’re messing with me,” Mac replies, turning back to her screen before she continues. “About last night...I'm sorry, I-"

"Mac." He stops her, waiting until she turns back to face him. "It's fine. Look, it was late, you were exhausted, hell, we both were...and, you know, I'm just glad you got some sleep."

"I did." She nods, biting her lip. "Would thank you be a more acceptable option than I'm sorry?"

"Much better, and you're welcome.” He moves to stand but changes his mind, leaning forward instead. “Did anything I said last night make a difference?”

“Will…” Mac sighs, looking back at him.

“Alright.” He does stand now and turns towards the door.

“See you at the rundown,” Mac says, before taking another bite of her breakfast.

“What I said last night still stands. I’m not firing you.” He stops at the doorway, turning back. “It’ll be okay, you know. And if it isn’t, and we go to the lions, then we go together.”

Pushing the remainder of the muffin aside, Mac watches him walk away, fighting the sudden thud of anxiety that is starting to settle heavy in her chest. They both know it won’t be okay, that there’s no possible way it can be, not this time, but she nods and allows him to think just for a moment that she believes him; but she knows that when she does walk into the lions’ den, she'll be walking in alone.


End file.
